Memoirs of The Flash
by TakemyKryptonite
Summary: The Flash looks back at an eventful life. A unique look into the JL and the DCU through the eyes of our favourite speedster. Hints of SMWW.


_Probably the best measure of a person comes from their actions when they're in need._

I was speeding along the interstate one fine day last summer. The annual JL meet had just ended, and I was thoroughly bushed after a tiring - although deeply satisfying - day of reports and analysis. I remember it like it was yesterday:

The Bats figured that over the course of just the previous year, the work of the League had affected the lives of around one and a half billion people directly, through our emergency rescue efforts and averting wars and what not, and easily upwards of three billion people indirectly, through our rebuilding efforts, technology transfers, and brokering peace in warring regions. It was a happy, but sobering moment for all of us as we understood just how crucial our work was, and we fell all silent, thinking about the future. Not one to lose control of a situation, Bats suddenly demanded that Diana and Clark stand up, and had the rest of us applaud the two.

When a blushing Supes asked Batman what this was about, he said that just spotting Superman and Wonderwoman out on patrol around the world, almost 24/7, gave the people of Earth hope to live and fight for another day. And he conceded that while making public their marriage might not have been the most strategic of decisions, it was nonetheless one that gave back to the world a little of the light it so desperately needed, by giving it the chance to learn to love selflessly. A suspiciously choked up Superman came around the table to hug Batman, depite the latter's weak protests, while Diana simply wrapped them both in a tight hug and lifted the two grown men off their feet.

Bats was even nice enough to commend me, as junior a member I was back then. He said, and I quote, "The Flash has also, surprisingly, done some good work." Yeah. I know! How awesome was that?!

So there I was, running home to Central City on an emotional high, feeling all sorts of important and selfless - very much the International Man of Danger and The Saviour of The Free World. I ran past the enormous banner welcoming one and all to 'Central City: The Home of The Flash!', when I noticed an old man crouched underneath the floodlit banner. I doubled back on the few miles I'd run in the time it had taken me to register him, and I gently crouched next to him. I made sure to make my presence known politely, and he turned to me from whatever he was crouched over.

His face lit up, "Flash!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see you my boy! How are you doing on this fine day? I was wondering when I'd see you run by today. You're late, you know."

I nodded at this kind stranger in apology, "Big meeting today, I wasn't able to come earlier."

And the strange old man waved it off gracefully, like a King granting a royal pardon to a wayward subject, "Don't worry about it son, in fact, you're just in time, the food is just about done and I've cooked extra for my friends."

He looked around him, scratching his head and looking puzzled, "Can't seem to find those buggers tonight, though. Well. It's their loss. Here, grab a seat, son, take that bucket over there."

I swear to you, till this date, I have no idea why I wordlessly obeyed him, but I did. And I sat next to him on a rickety old bucket with sharp edges that seemed determined to puncture my tender bottom through the thin material of my running suit.

"I didn't catch your name, Mr...?" I asked.

"That's Mr. Anderson William Turpin Smith," he responded, punctuating each of his names with a dramatic pause. "But you can call me Andy."

He ladled the noodles he'd been stewing into a clean bowl, and handed it to me along with a wooden spoon. I accepted it with a thanks and waited for him to serve himself.

We lifted up spoons full of soup and noodles, and said "Cheers!" before downing it. I have to admit, the soup was quite delicious. I even got the recipe from him later.

"So, Mr. Anderson... Andy, what brings you to central city?" I could see that he had a travelling backpack with him.

"I'm from all the way over in Gotham, son. I wanted to see the world, so me and my friends, we sold whatever little we had and hitchhiked all the way to this beautiful city of yours. He turned to wave his spoon at the city behind us, his mouth busily chewing, "And I've gotta tell ya, absolutely marvellous - what a beauty she is!"

"Yeah, that she is," I agreed, while my city was no 'Metropolis: The City of Tomorrow,' it was quite beautiful in it's own right.

"I'm a doctor, did you know?" Andy suddenly asked of me.

I started from my seat, still trapped inside musings about my city, "Oh?"

"Yep. Got myself some o' them fancy engineerin' degrees. Bachelors at Harvard, Masters at MIT, Phd. at Princeton," Andy reeled off. "Top o' my class in the first two, and would have been in the Doctorate too, if they had somethin' like that. Too bad they didn't."

I stared, astounded for a second, and was about to open my mouth when Andy cut me off.

"I guess you're wonderin' why I'm sitting here and not in some fancy hotel over there in the city. Sometimes, I wonder that too, but that's life..." he paused, staring at his spoon intently and contemplating something. "It was my wife. She was diagnosed when we were thirty years into our marriage. It was a long battle and she had a chance to live. A good one. Sixty percent, they said. But they didn't want spend money on those chances, so they cut corners, and 'saved' money. I found out only a year later, and by that time it was too late for poor Elsie."

He stopped at this point and wiped a tear from his eye with the back of his hand. I could see there was more to the story, and indeed, he continued.

"When she was in the ground, I kept thinking, how could someone choose some stiff green paper over someone's life? Didn't my Elsie deserve to live? Regardless of what the 'law' says, doesn't that make those people murderers? Now, I'm not the vengeful kind, and even if I'd been given a gun and put in a room with the doctors and the people directly responsible for Elsie dying, I wouldn't have harmed a hair on their heads. But I did want them to realize the error of their way, and repent. I couldn't let anyone else suffer like Elsie."

Andy put the bowl down by his side. I still hadn't finished mine.

"So, I hacked 'em. Finally used that Phd for something. I took all their data, setup a machine learning model that I'd developed to crunch the data, and figured out all the wrongdoings they've engaged in for the past 37 years of their existence."

"Medi-maze," I gasped. "That was you!"

A few years ago, the world's largest pharmaceutical company, Medi-Maze had taken severe losses, and was eventually forced into bankruptcy after a series of anonymous reports were released by a group of hackers named... wait a minute. "Eisle! It was your wife's name!"

Andy crinkled his brow, "Quite juvenile I admit, but her name had to be in there. I did it all for her. As wrong as it was, as much as she'd have disapproved of me disrupting the lives of others. I had to do it."

He took my empty bowl from me and placed it atop his. He clasped his hands.

"You must be wondering why I'm telling you all this. I initially considered turning myself in after the hack - regardless of the reasoning of my personal justice, I knew that I'd committed a crime by United States Law. But I found out that after the hacks, although the common folk who'd invested in the company suffered, the top officials left the sinking ship with enough money to hold them for a long, long time. So I went after them too... No no, don't look horrified, son, I told you I hate violence of any kind. I just made sure that their lies were exposed."

Andy leaned against the support post behind him.

"For five of those guys, I leaked the details of their extra-marital affairs to the world. And I waited until each of their divorce proceedings were done and their wives and children got the money from the split. I then slashed off five figures from the end of their 9 figure bank balances. For the rest, who weren't as guilty, I sent them a compilation of every wrong they'd ever done, and I warned them that if I get another hint of them messing up, I'd be there."

Andy laughed, "They've suddenly become model and honest members of society. Anyway, getting to my point, I wished to tell you this because I'm ready now, I've made my peace with the world. You can take me in, Flash. It'd be a true honor to be taken into custody by man of your integrity, son."

He smiled at me proudly like a father would at his 9 year old who'd won his very first competition. We heard scuffling sounds and from the nearby bushes, and a pack of four dogs emerged, tails wagging and tongues hanging out. They looked like they'd been out in the forests all day.

"John, Kane, Ashley, Mila, you're back!" He beamed and petted the four dogs and gave them furious belly rubs, leaving the canines with large doggy smiles on their faces. He ladled up the now warm soup into four flat bowls and laid them out for the dogs.

"They've been my loyal companions for the past 27 days. I've absolutely fallen in love with these idiots," he looked fondly at them. "I know you're a busy man, son, but would you mind looking in on them from time to time? Mila there, especially, she's a trouble maker that one."

I finally responded. I'd seen enough.

"No, but I'm going to do you one better, Andy. And something tells me we're going to become great friends."

I asked for Bruce's help, and set him up in a house in the suburbs of Central City, with a wide open lawn for his four furry friends. I made sure to drop by his house every day, even if just for a minute or two. And by the fifteenth day, I noticed that he'd become a very popular member in the locality and had made a lot of friends, kids mainly. He was such a warm person, so full of life and positivity, and it was a shame that he'd had to go through such a terrible tragedy.

He was happy at the end, though. I could see the contentment in his eyes and the mirth swirling around just beneath his grey irises. Andy died a happy man, surrounded by strangers he'd come to call family and who in return called him father and grandfather.

Having him in my life taught me that I could never give away enough love. It was a constant process, because inside ourselves, we have an endless reserve of love that we can spread to others. And that's what drives my work today, not numbers, not money, but love.


End file.
